Give Me a Hand
by Cendrilily
Summary: When Cid wakes up to an unpleasant shock, a mission of revenge makes him team up with the one group of things he hates more than chocobos: Turks. Unfortunately, it’s pretty hard to keep hating a bunch of people who act like a disjointed family.
1. Highwind, We Have a Problem

**Give Me a Hand**  
_Chapter One: Highwind, We Have a Problem_

It was something icy cold that woke me from a damn good dream. I suspected that Shera's cold feet had bumped up against me again, and I was about to give her hell for them, when my senses figured out what it really was.

A hand. Why were Shera's fingers so fucking cold?

"Damn woman, did you put your hand in some fucking ice water?" I asked as I rolled over, ready to tickle the hell out of her and give her a piece of my mind. That woman is perhaps the most ticklish being to ever walk this gods damned green planet. Of course, if I tickled her too much, she knew just where to hide my cigarettes.

Unfortunately, I found out pretty quickly why her hand was so cold. What little I knew about biology- all field knowledge- came and slapped me right in the face. Without blood flowing to it, a hand can get pretty damned cold.

And a good way to cut off the blood flow was to actually... cut off the hand.

"Shit!" I shouted as I threw the severed hand away from me. My immediate thought was that is was some sort of gag for that stunt I pulled for her birthday... but that was long enough ago that she wouldn't try something this elaborate. Besides, she may have been a lab scientist at one point, but she was no fucking Hojo. She'd never be so gods damned morbid about it.

This was just fucked up.

I jumped out of bed, a sudden panic seizing me. If Shera didn't do it... that meant... no. I wouldn't just accept it until I saw her smirking face again. Or didn't. But hell, I didn't want to think of that just yet... I was a hopeful bastard when I wanted to be.

I flew through the house, checking every damn nook and cranny. She wasn't a large woman, so I could see her squeezing into a number of places. But every place I looked... nothing. Gods, I hadn't realized how big this old house was. It took me near two hours to look through it thoroughly enough.

She was nowhere to be found. And I was fucking pissed.

I ran back upstairs and shuffled around the bedroom to find that hand for a clue... anything. I didn't like to feel desperate, but dammit, that woman had the market on Cid Desperation Points. I didn't really want to touch the hand again, dead things were really fucking creepy, but I had to.

It had a ring of hers on; the little turquoise one that I'd jokingly given her just in case no one ever asked her to marry them. Fuck, I hadn't even paid enough attention to notice she actually wore it. How gods damned fucking ironic that I noticed now.

There was also something attached to it. A small slip of paper, tied around her tiny stump of a wrist. There was a bit of writing on it:

**Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.**

What the hell kind of cryptic shit was that? I flung the hand away from me, disgusted that someone could do this to... damn. Sacrifice... they fucking killed her. Whoever sick bastard they were, they fucking killed her. Sacrifice my ass. This was pure Sephirothian sociopathic behavior.

Well, I bet they weren't counting on _this_ reaction.

I quickly ran back downstairs, and headed straight for my "special" closet. The one that Shera kept trying to reorganize. Well, honey, there was damn good reason I never let you. Sorry for the dishonesty, but there are some secrets an old man has to keep.

I pushed hard on the side wall, after moved the dusty old mop and kicking some unusable machine parts. The familiar click resounded like an old friend. I only wished the circumstances were far less... well shit, I couldn't let it get to me.

Not if I was going to get those sons of bitches.

A few years in the Air Corps had gotten me a number of strange and unusual things. I wasn't any fucking ninja, but I did know how to use a couple of different _interesting_ items... and I had such items squirreled away in my secret stash. Hadn't needed them when I was with Cloud and Company, but damn did I ever need them now.

See, I was a man on a mission. And there's nothing a man on a mission needs more than a fucking huge ass load of weapons. Guns, anti-aircraft missiles... I had a few. I could have used some backup, but most of us had scattered, looking for our own lives.

Vin checked in once in a while, but he'd already had his visit for the year. I didn't expect him for a few months at least. Cloud... no fucking clue. Tifa... somewhere on a beach in some bikini probably. Barret... kid involved. Red... good deductive skills, poor gun handling. Reeve... fucking hell no.

Looked like I was in it alone. Well, I had all night to prepare. I wasn't going anywhere until it was sunrise. I was going to put the fear of... hell, I didn't believe in gods anyway.

Well, I was going to put the fear of Captain Cid Highwind into them. That was for sure.


	2. Revenge is a Dish Best Served

_Chapter Two: Revenge is a Dish Best Served with Everclear_

Captain Cid Highwind was currently too pissed off to think straight. Pissed off and scared – though he wouldn't have admitted it. Dead things never exactly jived with him; he'd even left the hand in his bedroom.

Fuck all it was Shera's hand…

No one in town would have done that, everyone in Rocket Town all but adored Shera. Who wouldn't… dammit, why was his vision getting blurry? Cid rubbed the back of his hand along his eyes and ignored the damp feeling on the back of it.

He'd have to find someone who WOULD be capable of hurting someone like her. So, off he went to the bar, it doubled as a hotel, and anyone who wasn't from the town would have to be there at that time of night.

The bar didn't seem particularly busier than usual, but it wasn't exactly dead either. There were the regulars, sitting at the one table near the back, where they could watch the residents and visitors without too much trouble. They were also the most sober... gossip mongers that Cid didn't really care for. But they might have information.

So, wiping his eyes quick again, he strode up to them. They all knew, feared, and respected him, so he didn't expect much of a fuss. He stood right next to the leader, a rat-like man with a lisp, and glared down on him.

"Have you seen any... outsiders, lately?" he asked between clenched teeth. He absolutely hated chattery people like these... he felt almost dirty querying them.

"Not that wef seen..." the man replied, incisors overlapping his lower lip momentarily, "Except... maybeth that one." He pointed towards the actual bar counter, far across the room. There was a man on the end, who looked a little too clean to be a pilot or mechanic, and a little too scruffy to be a businessman.

He almost looked familiar.

He gave them no more than a quick nod as he left; he'd gotten what he wanted, and no longer wished to be in their presence. It didn't take him long to cross the steadily filling room, and he noticed that he was tensing a bit. He considered punching the man's lights out unless he recognized him... and if it was someone he recognized for a bad reason, he wouldn't hesitate.

He tapped the man on the shoulder.

The man's voice was a tenor, and Cid didn't need to have him turn all the way around to know exactly who he had tapped on the shoulder. Emmerson Reeve, ex-Turk, ex-ShinRa exec, and ex-two timing traitor. What the HELL was he doing in Cid's town?

"Please leave me alone…" He didn't turn around.

"Leave you alone?" Cid replied, clenching his fist, "I'll leave you alone... and bleeding in a fucking dumpster unless you tell me right now what the fucking hell you're doing in my town!"

Reeve spun around, the calm, happy, almost nerdy look was gone from his face. This was the Reeve that Cid met years before either of them had been execs in ShinRa. Dark, calculating, and Turk, Reeve glared at him. "I'm not-" he stressed – "in the mood, Highwind."

"The fuck do I care what gods damned _mood_ you're in?" Cid answered, leaning in a bit so that he could be at eye level with the man, "I asked you a gods damned question! Not like my life's been fucking roses, so I'd _appreciate_ if you didn't get all high and mighty with me!"

Reeve snarled at him, his hand going to his hip out of instinct. When he realized that his gun was in his room, Reeve's fist clenched. "Last. Warning. Highwind." He hissed.

"What, are you going to send your little shit _toy_ after me?" Cid smirked at his own cleverness. He didn't really care that it was bad to taunt a Turk... even an ex one. But he was drunk on his own adrenaline, and feeling particularly bold.

Besides, he was on a mission.

The bar stool clattered to the ground as Reeve stood. Nose to nose, Cid could smell the beer on the other man's breath. He could see the mako glow, even for Reeve's dark eyes. Both were things that called back to a time long before that spike headed kid showed up at Cid's doorstep.

"You are lucky I left my gun upstairs or you'd be breathing through a hole in your lungs." The soft tenor voice lost none of the "Turk" edge.

"I've already got holes in my gods damned lungs," Cid retorted, standing back up straighter and crossing his arms, "Fucking cigarettes do a better job than you could. So, are ya here just to piss me off, Toy Boy?"

It was then that Reeve reminded Cid of one more little detail. Turks were FAST. In a swift movement, Reeve was beside him, a knee firmly planted in the pilot's gut. Cid's hands gripped the other man's leg, but Reeve used this as leverage. His other foot struck Cid directly in the back of his shoulders, flipping him into the bar with force.

Cid grunted as he hit the bar. He glanced quickly around, hoping that the spots in his vision would clear. The toymaker hadn't let up on his training... Cid hadn't counted on that. Then again, Reeve didn't count on the beer bottle that came crashing over his head. Cid gave the man who was now without a beer a nod before elbowing Reeve hard while he was momentarily dazed.

After running a hand through beer soaked hair, Cid flicked it at the ex Turk. "You wanna fight or are we gonna-" He was going to add in "Play your damned assassin acrobatic games" or something witty. However, with a rather feral growl, Reeve was already tackling him OVER the bar. Cid's still sore back connected with the cement behind the bar and the air rushed from his lungs. Once again Cid's vision blurred-

When he could see he had just enough time to roll backwards to his feet, avoiding the heel of Reeve's boot by mere inches.

Grabbing the first thing in his reach- a bottle of Everclear- Cid swung once again at the oncoming Turk's- screw calling him an ex-Turk- head. It shattered on Reeve's elbow when he lifted his arm to block the blow. With a hiss of pain, Reeve jumped backward.

Cid pulled out his lighter with a smirk. "You still smoke, Turk?"

Reeve said nothing; he rocked side to side and watched the Zippo intently.

"Now, answer my GODS damned question." He flipped the Zippo open.

Reeve opened his mouth to answer, but then his eyes moved to the side. He mouthed one word "duck".

Cid growled at him, debating on if this was a trick or not. He wasn't given much time to think on the matter, Reeve dropped to the ground and Cid was soon to follow. Though Cid's journey to the floor was far less graceful as it was more on account of a leg sweep then on his own accord. The lighter fell from his grasp and landed on the alcohol soaked bar. The wooden item caught like thousand year old timber.

Even for the flames and once AGAIN being on his back, Cid took note of the little red dot that danced where his head had been. It would have been remiss not to notice that the bottle that should be where the little dot danced was shattered and rained down on him and Reeve.

Great, the fucker saved his ass…. Dammit.


	3. Little Lost Toy Maker

**Give Me a Hand**  
_Chapter Three:_ _Lost Little Toymaker_

You'd think that helping save the planet would get someone respect, or perhaps just a little dignity. You'd be wrong. People see a Mako glow and that is all they know, I'm "ShinRa"- a call back to all that was wrong in the world, a scapegoat.

If I were younger, maybe I'd be angry about it.

In my life I've been many things. A tinkerer, a whore, a ShinRa Executive, a member of AVALANCHE, a Turk… but I mentioned the whore thing once already. Through all of that, one person has known me.

Scarlet. I only joined the Turks because I wanted to be with her. I think that she's the only person that can spell my name… could spell it.

Scarlet's dead, and for once, I can't come to grips.

She'd been left lame after the Proud Clod explosion, but that had never really bothered me, it hadn't bothered her either. For once, she had the attention of the person she wanted and only that. I thought that maybe we could just slide away; maybe even have a family, settle down and never fight again. Being handy with machines almost secured me a job that could support us.

When I found her, I didn't believe it was her. She put up one hell of a fight from the looks of things, and even though her left side wasn't exactly up to par, she was still a Turk. I've seen things get messy before, but when a Turk fights for their life, that's the height of violent.

I sunk to the floor, still watching her as if she'd move. I was in shock, she couldn't just be dead. Not now, not after we finally had something that resembled freedom. We didn't _have _to fight anymore.

The blood was thick from her wrist before I got up off the floor. I didn't bother to think about why someone would want her hand and I didn't cry for her, I don't think she'd have appreciated that anyway. She always said I was too nice, too easy; she never liked me as a Turk.

But Scarlet's dead now.

I dug my Death Penalties out of our closet and took the time to glance over at Cait from where he sat on that stuffed moogle. Both were collecting dust, part of me felt bad that my avatar didn't get much use anymore. It was pointless to pretend to be someone else. Everyone in AVALANCHE knew who was behind it. The world didn't care about a cute kitty cat on a moogle when there was a Turk to tear down behind it.

There was only one person in AVALANCHE that I would have bothered hanging around with anyway. But Vincent had long ago done the first thing he taught me never to do. He gave up. He didn't have the lust for life that I thought we all shared, he didn't want to spend time with his old roots. Maybe he was embarrassed, but I doubted it. I think he was too preoccupied with his over grandeurized sins.

Oh well, I had other friends and other old habits. The world wanted to paint me as a ShinRa man all the way. Fine with me. This person wanted to hack off ShinRa Execs? Also fine, I'd just make myself a better target. And when I found whoever did that to her, I was going to make them see just how I climbed the corporate ladder. It sure as hell wasn't on my charming personality and quirky nature.

The first thing I did was call those other friends: Rude, Reno and Elena. They offered as much sympathy as Turks can, meaning they told me to watch my ass and they would watch theirs. There was a moment before Reno asked if I wanted them to swing by, but I declined.

Maybe I was worried I was rusty, and didn't want them to see. I trained them all personally, and maybe pack mentality told me that the old Alpha couldn't limp back into the pack. That fear left me all on my own.

I figured I'd run into trouble in Rocket Town, but the only place I knew of to find any other "ShinRa" person was here. Shera and Cid – as much as he was forced into it – were ShinRa. So if this person was after ShinRa, they may already be in Rocket Town, waiting.

I wasn't there two minutes before Cid stormed in. He looked for all the world like someone smashed his favorite toy and pissed on it. Of course, he'd probably like to think he looked intimidating. I hadn't been in the mood, and he had to press the issue.

Though I was happy to lean that I wasn't rusty, I didn't need that stupid bar fight. It blew my cover. My still unknown target was now tipped off on two things. That I knew he was out there and that I hadn't forgotten how to fight. I left Cid on the floor, another testament to my age – ten years ago I would have killed him for getting in my way like that. Using my jacket to toss over the burning bar and vault over it. I flicked glass to the floor. People were running all over in chaos.

All of them running, save one figure that slid very deliberately out a window. I ran to the door as the figure ducked outside.

The wind blew drips of everclear into my eyes, prompting them closed. Damn Cid, I really had the urge to drag his ass outside and kick it properly without his barrage of glass weaponry.

But there were more important matters at hand…

… my keen powers of deduction told me the most important matter was the car racing right towards me.


	4. Turning Turk

_Chapter Four: Turning Turk_

Now, when that skinny little shit nerd skittered away from the bar, I could feel my blood pressure go back up again. Save my ass and then run off like that? I don't think so. He _owed_ me more than even a life debt at this point.

I personally held Emmerfuck Reeve responsible for all this mess. I didn't gods damn well _ask_ to be in Shinra those many years ago. And I didn't want their crap now.

Considering the very appearance of this little shit, some remnants of the megacorporation were still running. Especially considering how gods damned FAST he was. You needed to train to keep like that, and no fucking "retirement" or "executive" ploy was going to fool me. Turks didn't retire, and even if they got the whole damn executive package, they were still on some sort of call.

This was also a kick in the balls... they sent the same gods damned Turk after me again. Didn't they ever change it up once in a while? Where the fucking hell was the creativity?

I stormed after him, no burning bar or floor full of glass could stop me when sneaky fucking Turks were involved. And I just about lost that fight, as hard it was to admit, so I needed to either destroy his nerdy ass or get myself killed in a foolish and undoubtedly flashy way. All or nothing.

"Hey, Emmerfuck!" I shouted, once I was out the door. I wanted to say something else clever, but what I saw just about made me admire that kinky little toy fetishist... Damn. I didn't think a person could bend that way. Well, maybe if they were a Wutainese barmaid, but that wasn't natural. And in mid-air too. That was one hell of a way to avoid a car.

He landed in a crouch and the car continued down the road, they probably thought he had a gun or something. Fucking Turk, wouldn't put it past him. Standing slowly he glared at me.

And there we fucking stood, neither of us happy, and me without a bottle to break over his head.

Finally, after what felt like too fucking long for me not to talk, Reeve opened his damn mouth. "Nice to see you too, Highwind."

"So, Toy Boy, the fucking hell is going on?" I asked, no need to hesitate or distract with pleasantries. A kiss ass, I am not. Besides, things were starting to add up; a Turk, a sniper, a fucking hand in my bed, and now a car. Smelled like a damn conspiracy or the gods had finally decided to start the end of the world... again.

He looked back down the road, seeming content not to have another go at me. After a few moments he shook his head and shouldered past me, heading back into the burning building. Gods damnit he was pissing me off.

"So what's the name now?" I finally said, hoping I was condescending as possible, "Shinra's got a fucking bad name now... a new bunch of retards trying to take over the Planet?"

He glared, and for a second, I almost regretted invoking that name. Almost.

He turned around, heading back to the burning bar. Before I could scream at him again, he said something. It was so quiet I almost didn't catch it. "Scarlet's dead."

Scarlet the Harlot? Most people that had ever met that bitch would have been happy to say such a thing... but Reeve looked like he'd been run over a couple of times with a big fucking truck. The hell? Did they... well shit. I'm an asshole. But I'll be gods damned if I tell him that.

"You want to go and kill something?" I replied, searching for a cigarette that wasn't soaked in booze, "I know some pricks that would be excellent for working out your aggression."

A pack of them hit me in the chest. Apparently he did smoke still, or he'd just started up. He looked up at the burning building, a frown on his face. "When I get a hold of him, he'll wish I would kill him." Damns… well that was a bit harsher than I thought it should be.

About then I remembered that my lighter was somewhere in the small inferno that once was the bar... I'd have to go and fetch my spare. Dammit. "I've got a little vendetta myself see..." I continued, realizing that my voice sounded a hell of a lot better than his, and that maybe I'd pissed him off enough for the day, "Left Shera's hand in my bed, and I mean to return the favor." Cid 1, Emmerfuck 0. Harshness aside, I was certainly getting a grip on this... 'the enemy of my enemy' thing.

At this he turned sharply and blinked at me. "Somone...killed Shera?" The sound of the fire brigade caught his attention. I noticed that he jumped a bit, must have been a knee-jerk reaction to cops. "Let's get out of here before I have to break out of prison." Seems we were thinking the same way.

I nodded and followed him... trying not to see the irony in the situation. Fucking hell, I was working with Emmerfuck Reeve... the very man who had persuaded me to join that filthy corporation. I'd settle my beef with him later, though.

Now, we had work to do.


	5. Took Cid to Reeve

**Give Me a Hand**  
_Chapter Five: Took Cid to Reeve: Can't Make 'em Like Each Other_

It was a strange sight; the town bar lighting up the night sky, like the remnants of some belated launch. No small wonder that the fire department was well trained to handle any sort of flaming calamity. It didn't take very long at all before the inferno was just a few smoldering campfires.

The two men watched the transformation without much expression, each with his own thoughts. Cid had long since rediscovered his spare lighter, and was - as calmly as a man like him could - exhaling the smoke. He approved of the brand with a slight huff of his throat, drawing his reluctant companion's attention.

"Are we getting into the arsenal anytime soon?" Reeve asked quietly, assessing the situation in his own way, having lit a cigarette himself, "Or are we going to sit here until the cops question us?" Cid smirked, and threw all that remained, the putrid filter, on the ground with a scoff.

"I AM the fucking police," he replied, grinding the butt into the ground, "I could throw your ass in jail... but I can't do this shit alone. Ya hear me?" Reeve nodded, tossing his own cigarette aside with a flick.

Cid grinned wickedly. He had never been a humble man, and his collection of armaments was... a thing of beauty to some. To fighting types, to beat around by life and society types. Reeve raised his eyebrow awaiting Cid's return to reality.

"Perhaps, Captain," Reeve started in a fairly condescending tone, "we should get a move on, whoever tried to snipe you and run me over is getting away."

Cid growled and sent a glare to the ex Turk. Reeve was leaning against his wall like he owned the place, in a relaxed slouch he never had liked. "I let you bull me around once, Turk. Unless you want yer ass kicked worse, can the shit."

In silence, they started to Cid's house and to his "special closet". The door slid back, lights flicking on as though some deity brought the room to light. Both men allowed slow smiles to creep on their faces. They then noticed each other and scowled.

"Stop acting like you've got a crush on me." Cid snapped, lighting another of Reeve's cigarettes. "I ain't yer type, told ya that from the get-go."

Reeve simply rolled his eyes and started into the closet of Cid's toys. Amidst the arsenal of surface to air scuds, blinking starters and missiles larger then either of them, Reeve found what he was looking for; three standard Turk issue Death Penalties. He adjusted the gun belts with practiced ease, walking out while spinning the clips and checking the barrels.

It didn't sit well with Cid, who lit another cigarette with the butt of his last one. He'd obviously wanted to wound the other man with his commentary, the fact that Reeve was making a good show of ignoring him didn't make Cid happy at all.

Before he could try again to insult the Turk, Reeve spoke up. "You never fired these?"

Cid snorted. "Fuck no. I'm not a two timing, assassin, professional whore of ShinRa." He snatched his lance from the closet. "I like making things personal."

To this Reeve only laughed. "You don't have enough finesse to be a Turk."

'Finesse?" Cid replied with a snort, "Finesse sure as hell isn't what you think it is. You people used guns made by slave labor from Wutain POWs... finesse is being able to make your own damn weapons, and knowing every inch of them." He grabbed one of the three guns, and with some deft finger movements, had it reduced to a pile of metal. He smiled satisfyingly to himself at Reeve's expression.

Reeve laughed. "You know, you're pretty vain to think that you're the only one," he closed his eyes, "who can do this sort of thing." Then without opening his eyes, Reeve assembled the weapon again. His eyes opened when he flipped the clip into the gun. The ex-Turk spun and fired, clipping the "12" off of Cid's kitchen clock.

He turned smugly back to the stunned pilot. "That would be Finesse."

Just as quickly as Reeve fired the weapon, Cid brought the back of his lance against Reeve's knees. Surprised, Reeve lost his grip of the gun and landed flat on his back. Dark eyes glared up from under the business end of the lance.

"And that, would be what I think of your fucking finesse." Cid snapped back.

Reeve pushed the tip of the lance delicately aside. "Point taken…"

Cid backed off, looking a little weary for the moment as he gazed over into his kitchen. Reeve soon got up, but he was already halfway to the stove. Both their nerves were a little ragged, and Cid knew something that would put him at ease enough to talk with the... Turk. Hopefully it would leave a less bitter taste in his mouth than the other man's presence would.

Not that Reeve was enjoying it. He stalked over to the kitchen and sat down, letting his head rest in his hands.

"Highwind?" Reeve asked again looking up. It was then that he saw the tea kettle, and attempted to keep back a chuckle. Cid tuned ignored it, quite used to men thinking him rather a pansy for his tea affinity.

"You can wipe that damn smirk on your face," Cid replied, setting it up to boil, "Tea helps people fucking think. There's some antioxidamn shit in it. Tea first; think later." Reeve didn't fully stop smirking, but instead turned away slightly.

They sat, in another of their seemingly common silences, each avoiding looking at the other. Quite like children who couldn't stand being in the same room with each other.


	6. Bad Guys Caught Your Tongue?

_Chapter Six: Bad Guys Caught Your Tongue?_

I was going to turn and say something to Cid. Maybe an apology for the time I met him, maybe an effort to explain that it wasn't my idea to threaten him like I did. I doubted he'd believe that I was just as harassed and bullied as he was. Simply because ShinRa used Hojo to threaten me behind closed doors didn't make the threat less real.

However, the moment I turned to say something, Cid's door burst open with enough force to pitch the inner screen door to the ground. Cid and I leapt to our feet, chairs clattering to the ground. But I think what came through the door shocked us both.

Reno.

He slumped for a moment in the doorframe, just long enough for us to get a clear look at him. He'd been worked over, that much was more then obvious, and he'd clearly used Materia to cure his leg; he still seemed to favor it as if it'd been broken. That aside, his clothes looked like hell, the front of him was totally drenched with blood, I could even make out where it had matted his already red hair.

Before anything could be said he was beside me, if Cid thought I was fast, he'd yet to see Reno get moving. I swear there are chocobos slower than that kid. He drew my weapon and leveled it at Cid, bright eyes narrowed into slits.

I knew that look and backed away from him. I hoped Cid knew it too. If I bumped Reno, he'd kill Cid right there. And for some damned reason, I really didn't want to see Cid die with a bullet in-between his eyes.

It'd been years since I'd seen Reno be this desperate and frightened. Why the hell would he go after Cid though? Reno was too lazy to go after someone unless Tseng or I –sometimes both- put a foot up his ass. "Reno…" I started slowly. "Cid's been with me the whole time. The whole time, I swear."

Why was Reno being so quiet?

"What the fuck is wrong with you fucking damned Turks!" Cid yelled, though he didn't move. At least he seemed to have some sense of self preservation.

Reno's eyes narrowed again. But he didn't pull the trigger and if he hadn't been swayed, he'd have killed Cid. I sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Re.. come on, what happened?"

He was alone, and that worried me. Rude, Elena and Reno were closer than family. They simply wouldn't have just left him…

…unless…

"Oh fuck." I muttered, spinning Reno to face me. "Where are Rude and Lany?"

Reno glared over his shoulder at Cid again, halting any movement from the pilot. He then made a walking motion with his fingers over his palm, flipping both his hands over he pointed to me then pointed to Cid and mimed being shot in the head.

So Rude and Elena were meeting up with me and he wanted to shoot Cid in the head for good measure? All without saying one word? That cinched it, I already knew what happened to him, but I didn't want to believe it without proof. Fuck, Reno wasn't even 21, he was just a kid. "Open your mouth, Re."

But Cid did not sit silently by while I made to inspect Reno's mouth. Maybe he had figured it all out in his head, maybe not, but he knew something...

"I knew that there was some kind of gods damned improvement in you, kid," Cid said, whilst smirking, still as a statue save his mouth. I wanted to slap him. This wasn't a gods damned joke!

Reno spun, making to have a real round at Cid; I grabbed him and hauled backwards. While it would have been fitting to have Reno work him over, I didn't trust Reno not to let up, and given his current situation?

We both fell back into the coffee table; Reno flung my arm down and snarled at Cid.

"Gods fucking dammit Cid, someone's cut his fucking tongue out." I snapped.


	7. Get thee behind me, Reno

**Give Me a Hand**  
_Chapter Seven: Get thee behind me, Reno_

Now, if it weren't for the fact that the damn fool kid looked like he wanted to break me like a twig, I would have patted his back and congratulated him. Not everyone gets such a chance... a chance to never have to worry about a fucking fool word coming out of their mouth. Though, I could think of less painful methods.

"You know, you're not the only ones who've been fucking shot at or attacked in any way," I began, that calm sort of voice I used to use with mechanics who'd been in Wutai too long, right before they snapped, "If you shoot blindly at whoever seems like the logical foe, you're going to end up missing the one who's really fucking responsible."

His eyebrow twitched at this, and I tried to imagine all the different retorts that he had in his head. Damn, if there was ever a time I wanted to laugh... but even I wasn't a fucking fool enough for that. He did have a response for me, though.

And damn, whatever maneuver he was demonstrating... it was very involved. Like that one time, in Midgar...

"Re, that's just..." Reeve said before I had a chance to, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "...you're disturbing sometimes." A weird wheezing sound came from the redhead's throat... I could only assume he was chuckling. But still holding the gun. Smart kid. Hopefully the tension that had been in the room would ebb away and we could prod some information out of fucking Reno the Muted Wonder.

He stopped the strange wheezing and turned to me again, apparently only distracted for a moment. Fucking great. At least he didn't look like he would disembowel me now... more like a deep-set hatred. Hatred was good; people kept their gods damned enemies alive long enough to get information from them. So he wouldn't shoot me... so what the fuck _was_ he going to do?

He threw his arms around wildly, indicated... well the fucking hell if I knew. He looked like a trained monkey. ReMuWo, as I abbreviated in my mind, was being more obtuse than Vin on a good day... or Reeve, well, fucking ever. And my tea was boiling.

"Slow... slow down Re," Emmerfuck said, further making me angry with this fucking "Turk" organization... secret codes and all. But I didn't need to feel out of the loop for long, as ReMuWo was grabbing both Reeve and I from our seats. Someone was in a fucking hurry.

That's when it hit me. There was probably more of those Turk vermin, and I was going to be stuck in with their kind... gods damned if I weren't on a mission...

"Hey! Let us fucking arm ourselves first!" I shouted before the kid could drag me further, "What happens if they pop you off? And it's just Emmerfuck and I?" Reno narrowed his eyes, considering my request. He then scanned my first floor, and found my special closet. He gestured over to Reeve, who picked out a Death Penalty and my newest lance, a beauty I liked to call the LSS... or Large Sharp Stick.

But the prick wouldn't hand me anything. Fucker.

Soon we were outside, and damn if I had a hard time keeping up with him. Figured that sneaky bastards like the Turks would be so damn fast, turning tail and running like the scared bitches they were. This kid must have been the Queen Bitch or something in that realm. I didn't realize how much distance we had covered when we suddenly stopped.

I was about to comment on the smell of the chocobo pen when I was rudely interrupted by yet another unexpected problem. "Alive? Fair enough."


	8. Nothing is Certain but

_Chapter Eight: Nothing is Certain but Turks and Mad Scientists _

All three men spun, varying shock and horror on their faces. Cid looked from Reno to Reeve, slight confusion at the very real fear he saw from both of them. Their hands clenched so hard he noted blood dripping from the knuckles.

The laugh was amused at this, though it seemed the laugh of someone who was bored with such a reaction. Into the light stepped a young man, large glasses perched on top of a brooding nose. Thick black hair was bound into a slick pony tail and his bangs jutted out at strange angles. It looked- and sounded- for all the world like a twenty year old Hojo.

Reeve and Reno backed up quickly, bumping into Cid. The retreat into the chocobo pen was cut off when the same voice echoed from behind them. "Now, Reno, Reeve, you know what happens to naughty little Turks that don't do what they are told."

"Mother fuckers, what the gods damned fucking shit is this shit?" Cid snarled, seeming almost as angry at the backing up with the Turks as he was to be face to face with someone he personally loathed on a professional standpoint.

A third version of that same voice floated over to them, effectively backing Reno, Reeve and Cid up near the house that held the sleeping chocobo-keepers. "Highwind… I thought you'd die before playing with my little-" he laughed, a broken disjointed sound. "toys…"

Both Reeve and Reno started a deep-throated growl, rocking back and forth like big cats. They looked at each other then to Cid. Cid was taking a breath to prepare another rant when Reno darted away from him. In the next moment the red head's shoulder connected with the center Hojo, pitching him to the ground.

The other two Hojo's leapt to intercept him, but Reno seemed to expect it. Rocking to one shoulder while still on top of the first Hojo, Reno's boot connected with the kneecap of another. He rolled backwards, up onto his feet and threw his elbow back into the ribcage of Hojo number three before sliding back, drawing attention away from Reeve and Cid.

Reno and Reeve shared a quick nod before Reeve grabbed Cid's wrist and amidst a firm verbal assault from the pilot, ducked into the chocobo pens.

Cid didn't need to be told what they needed to do; he saddled up a third chocobo while he ranted. "-gods fucked all to hell shit. Can't believe fucking HOJO on top of all this crap. Damn Turks, all your fault, fucking HANDS IN MY BED!"

Meanwhile, Reno was leading the Hojos on a rather comical chase around the farmhouse. Using a maple tree, Reno clamored up to the third floor and through a window. He snagged a blanket off of the bed, uncovering the farmer and his rather well endowed wife. Halting for a moment Reno cocked his head in an approving fashion, gave the man a thumbs up and darted back out the door while the Hojos climbed into the window.

Reno waited outside the bedroom door to toss the sheet over his pursuers. A firm kick to the back of the closest one sent all three of them and the sheet tumbling down the staircase. Reno slid down the rail and tossed a spin-heel kick to the front door.

"Mother fucking flightless fucking creepy ass birds. Birds are supposed ta fesking fly…" Cid complained as he and Reeve turned the corner of the house at a full gallop. Reeve's assessment of Reno's sprint speed was affirmed as the red head managed to leap on top of the loose chocobo and then pull the bird into the lead.

They didn't seem to have time to spare anymore, and whatever Reno knew, would have to wait before he could tell them anything.


	9. Is That a Turk I See Before Me?

**Give Me a Hand**  
_Chapter Nine: Is That a Turk I See Before Me?_

I'd almost forgotten how much Cid hates chocobos. He seems to think that the poor things don't all fly with the single goal of fucking with his head. Come to think of it, that would be a pretty good reason if I were a chocobo.

It gave me something to laugh at, and at that moment, I needed all the jollies I could get. Hojo. Why for the love of all that was right, good and holy in this planet did someone have to make MORE of him?

What's worse, they made YOUNG, ABLE BODIED, ones of him. I shuddered again, feeling the blood cake the palm of my hand. Sometimes I forgot how useful fingerless gloves were. What? Did you think that we honestly worried about fingerprints? Clenched fists were far more tolerable when your fingernails didn't bite into your skin.

Hojo was enough to make me want to vomit, and Reno just fought off three of him. I was glad he'd shown up when he did, Cid and I were wholly unprepared for this. I'd still been hell bent on a revenge kick and Cid looked precariously close to a mental breakdown.

It was best that Cid and I kept all thoughts to ourselves; we were riding with an urgency that made most every other thought impossible to hold onto. Reno kicked his already sweating bird into a faster gallop; we must have been getting closer. I felt a bit of apprehension at meeting up with the Turks again. Tseng was dead, Reno was mutilated, Elena was still too new and Rude never wanted to be a leader.

That meant that it was back on my shoulders. I was going to have to get my act together and be a Turk again. It was something I didn't know that I could handle. Had I lost my edge? Was I the right person for this? Years ago I knew that answer, but years ago was too long in the past.

Cid was out of the question as a leader. He'd be the first to admit it, and no one would argue the point. There was no other option. Reno'd had enough faith in me to pass the torch, I wasn't going to let them down. We didn't have a choice in the matter. Whoever did that to Reno knew very well what they were doing and they wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

I knew that both Rude and Elena would know this too. I also knew that Rude would be distinctly pissed off about the matter. He'd always treated Reno like a little brother despite the fact that Reno was supposed to be in charge. Elena as well, was not to be underestimated; I could only hope that they were still where Reno thought they were.

He pulled the bird to a halt and jumped off of it. Leaving it to run back to its stable, the red head darted into the woods, and Cid and I had no choice but to follow him. I could hear Cid complaining more about running, though I didn't care. Reno stopped by what looked like an abandoned logging mine, he pushed the front door open and lead us to the basement.

Once at the door he tapped the code for "three" on the door. Turk code wasn't exactly Morse; it was funny how much of it all I realized I remembered. _You're a Turk, you always were a Turk, Emmerson, _I told myself. The doors opened quickly, and there weren't lights on in the room. Reno and I didn't need them; the mako was plenty to light the room with night vision. We both yanked Cid into the room and no sooner had we done that then I felt the door slam shut, something large was being placed to hold it closed.

"RENO!" Elena, I could see running from the light switch to hug him. She bailed him into the door, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Reno, you're alive! Oh gods, Re…"

"Can't someone put on a gods damned LIGHT!" Cid shouted, for it had only been, oh, a minute since we'd arrived. Damn fool doesn't know when to shut up. I turned to say something to him, but I noticed that Rude had already opened his mouth.

"Do you need me to take care of the garbage, Reno?" he asked, eyes watching Cid. I saw the pilot's mouth drop, and then close as he gritted his teeth.

"Fucking hell, he can't even talk!" Cid exclaimed, and I could see the utter confusion and that meltdown was even more promising. This was not good at all.

Rude clenched his jaw, a very subtle gesture. He walked slowly over to Cid, where he could stand over him. I saw the pilot swallow and couldn't help a little snigger at that. "Do we have a problem?" Rude spoke, tone low and dangerous. And Cid smirked back, proving that he had, in fact, totally lost his mind.

"Yes," Cid replied, attempting to make himself taller, "I woke up with a hand in my bed, got into a bar fight with ole Emmerfuck here, almost got snipered, almost got shot by Reno the Muted Wonder, got chased around by three Hojos, and just rode a FUCKING CHOCOBO. If there's no fucking PROBLEM there, then just shoot me now and get it over with!"

I pinched my nose. You can't just ask RUDE to shoot you and not expect him to... try. Or scare you worse. Or break you into little parts and make some sort of Salvador-esque artscape from your twisted remains.

Rude lunged forward and Cid must have felt the air move, he jumped back, slamming up against the wall he couldn't see with a curse. Before Rude could bend Cid's neck so far back he licked is own ass, Reno, Elena and I reached out and grabbed him.

Rude must have been as out of sorts as I was, he halted without much effort on our parts. With a low snarl, Rude turned away from Cid and looked down at Reno who rolled his eyes and made an obscene gesture with his hand at the front of his pants before motioning to Cid again. Rude cracked a half smile and I felt relived that at least, for them, all they needed was accounted for.

Elena didn't take as kindly as they did. "You should have fucking killed him." She snapped, making both Reno and I flinch. I'd known Elena had a mean streak. I knew she wasn't just picked to be a Turk because she was a pretty blonde and could fill Scarlet's shoes. This, however, was a new side of her to me.

I always had wondered how such a sweet little girl had ended up in prison for murder. I suppose this was a good tip off. She stalked up in between Reno and Rude who took the moment to glare at Cid. Part of me wanted to turn the light on, staring at four pairs of glowing eyes and couldn't have helped Cid's mood or weak grip on sanity.

When Elena continued, however, I realized exactly why Reno had wanted to kill Cid. "His fucking bitch had Reno's TONGUE cut out because he wouldn't talk. I'd like some proof he's not in on it."

Shera wasn't dead. Hell, if I hadn't seen Cid with my own eyes hours before, I'd want proof too. For right now, I'd let Elena handle this.


	10. No Rest for the Pilot

_Chapter Ten: No Rest for the Pilot_

The big Turk worried me slightly. Well, a fucking lot. I was five seconds away from becoming a Cid pancake. But this new one... the woman... Eleanor? Fucking hell, I was always terrible with names. For now, she would be the triple B; bitchy blonde bimbo. For my memories of her were of her big mouth and constant incompetence. Well, for a Turk.

She'd had a few years of training since then.

Of course, my mind had just registered what she'd said. Fucking bitch. "Wait... _my_ bitch?" I replied, unsure exactly of what she was implying. Sure some of the guys had joked about Vin and me once, but that lasted about as long as they could exist without a pole shoved up their ass... which was approximately five seconds, not including the time it took to find said pole. Not like Rocket Town has fucking poles all over the place.

There was a snap and the lights flicked on with blinding clarity. I could actually see them all now, Big Turk was still very scary, BBB was not a BBB in all areas, she'd seemed to fill out pretty well and the look she gave me was eerily competent. "Yes. _Your_ bitch. Or is your head too far up your ass to hear properly?"

Fucking hell... was she implying... that's not very ladylike.

"You've got to be dicking me," I reply looking around for Shera to pop out and say, 'I'm fine and well! Funny joke, huh?', or her ghost to come and scare the shit out of me.

"Could you boys excuse me and the Captain a minute?" Elena asked, crossing her arms under her chest. I was too stunned to even register the nods or the fact that Reno, Rude and Reeve filed out into a side room. After the door had clicked she stepped forward, backing me up against the wall. "I fucking don't feel like playing. And I sure as _hell_ am not going to listen to you poke fun at the ONLY three men in my LIFE who've been more interested in me being safe than smacking me around. I don't know why Reeve let you tag along, I don't know why Re didn't fucking shoot you, but YES. YOUR friends are doing this. MY FRIEND is dead right now because YOURS flipped out. And that? That pisses me off."

"Hell if you wanted to get alone with me, you could have just asked," I replied, strangely unfazed by her rant. Fucking hell, it was almost fun, the way her brown eyes flamed the way they did. But damn... I couldn't think about that. My _friends_? She suggested more than one in that, and even the idiot that I am could put two and two together.

Surely she didn't mean _Shera_, though?

She snarled at me and the punch came out of nowhere, right across the jaw. Ok, so she was pretty strong… I'd file that information away. "Yeah, your gods damned bitch is all over Vincent Valentine." She spat on the ground as if the idea disgusted her. "How he could ever fuck a ShinRa scientist is beyond me. But of course, that's something you two had in common…only, not really. If I remember, you only like women too scared to call you on your shit."

Vin was officially on my shit list. That asshole. He _knew_ that... well fuck him.

"The fucking hell are you talking about, woman!" was all I managed to stammer out, "Vin's been away for a year, and fucking hell Shera... and what do you know about my habits!" Shera and... this whole time, gods damned, I needed a fucking _drink_. And I had the Petite Pitbull trying to rip me a new one.

Wrong thing to say, She yanked me by my collar and brought us eye level. "I have a FUCKING name, Highwind. Elena. If it is too many syllables, call me Elle. Do NOT fucking call me WOMAN you misogynistic asshole." With that I was cast against the wall again. "Vincent and Shera, fucking behind your back. At least that's what it looks like to me. And how can I NOT know about your habits? No fucking wonder she snapped the way you treated her." She took a long breath. "Fuck it, I don't know why I bothered, fucks like you think that if someone has breasts they don't have any mentality."

She stopped and lit a cigarette, then turned the pack to me, actually offering a cig to me?

I was fucking confused. This was NOT how women acted. I was beginning to wonder if Hojo'd started growing his Turks in glass cases along with that fucktard Valentine. Maybe if I made her angry enough she'd turned into a fucking dinosaur or something.

I accepted her cigarette, if only because I no longer existed in the real world.

"Aeris and Tifa were pretty smart," I said with a low tone, "Yuffie was an idiot, but she was a kid. Don't think I haven't dealt with women, and don't you EVER condescend to know what the fuck I've dealt with, _Elena_." I felt pretty satisfied with myself for the moment. Sure, I might be an asshole, but you don't make fucking generalizations about anybody. She opened her mouth to say something but I managed to cut her off.

"So how exactly do we kill the bastards?" I said. See, I was on a mission, but missions can adapt. I don't think I could kill her or anything, despite it all, but I had a one man shit list at the moment.

"How do you kill something that can kill and maim Turks?" she said, no amount of cynicism spared, "Personally, I'd blow them the fuck up." Sure, that was a gods damned viable solution if you wanted to fry Vin's ass, but if... if she was around... no way in hell would that work.

"No fucking way. You don't even know if anyone other than Necrophilia Walking and Shera are involved," logic, Cid, use your gods given talent for something fucking useful, "Or that Shera is in her right mind. She gets confused sometimes." She narrowed her eyes.

"If someone bigger is involved, you burn the weaklings to smoke them out," she said coldly. Damn, how did Shinra find these people? This woman looked like the damn girl next door fantasy; blonde, young, and deceivingly sweet looking. Who'd have thought she'd say this kind of shit?

"Listen, I know Vin's a nutcase, even on a good day, but Shera's decent," I continued, why the fuck was I in this constant loop, "There has to be a _reason_ for her to be working with him. Maybe she's trying to stop him, maybe—"

"Scarlet was decent too! Under all that shit that Shinra put her through... she was a good person!" She'd thrown the cigarette on the ground, not even fully smoked. What a waste.

"The fucking hell are you shouting for!" I shouted back, and yes, I'm a gods damn hypocrite. Fucking sue me.

She cracked her knuckles, mouth taunt like she was ready to maim me with her words or fist. She did neither.

"I understand that you are a thick headed male with an obsession for dominating," she said in a slow teacher explaining to a child tone, "And that your submissive has run off with the tall dark stranger. But you have to understand... that there might be a possibility that you thought wrong. Or that there's something there that you didn't consider before."

And like a light switch, she turned the tense mood in her face off.

"If we can save her, we will. But if she's the enemy, can you handle that?" Damn it all... I didn't want to be having this conversation. I didn't want to be talking to a fucking Turk. I didn't want her to be looking at me like a person instead of a target. Good and evil... there's no such fucking thing anymore, is there?

Shera is not the villain, the dark sorceress. Hell, she's not even the captured princess. There aren't parts for her kind in storybooks. Shows you what kind of assholes wrote them.

"Could you handle it if one of those guys out there has to die in the process? I won't answer your damn question if you don't answer mine." She blinked, falling out of that warm and near caring front that she put up. This was the Elena I remembered; unsure, and overwhelmed.

"I... I don't know. I'd probably hit the bastards that much harder. I could go on." Her tone became more final as her phrasing ended. Sure, that was a bastard tactic. But, shit, she asks some hard questions.

I was on a mission. A mission.

"If it is the case, may it be gods damn fucking hell quick. If you make her suffer, no matter what she's done, I will have your ass." When did I begin to sound so fucking serious? Makes a man want to start drinking.

"Likewise for any of my men." She held out her hand and smiled. Guess it was time to seal the deal or some shit like that.

I grasped and shook it quick, strong, and brief. I can imagine that when you sign your soul away in blood, you want to drop the pen quickly. Creepy ass shit, this all was. I just hoped that it was worth it.

Gods damn, what a waste it would be if it wasn't.


	11. A Turk in Time

**Give Me a Hand**  
_Chapter Eleven: A Turk in Time_

Cid followed Elena from the front room of the basement through the door that Reeve, Rude and Reno had exited. After a few winding halls, they came to a small lounge room, complete with a kitchen and a shower. Cid sucked the cigarette down to the filter before they sat down around the table. Rude, Reeve and Reno looked up expectantly, all rather amazed that Cid was walking in on his own power.

"So?" Reeve asked, a smile tugging on his lips, "how many times did she sock ya?"

Cid spat the cigarette butt on the ground and smashed it under his boot. "Once was a-fuck'n-nuff."

To this, Reno jumped in the air, arms raised in triumph. He proceeded to dance around both Reeve and Rude's chairs, and then extended his hands to each, opening and closing his fists.

Reeve and Rude made exasperated sounds, digging out their wallets and counting out gil into Reno's waiting hands. Elena snorted at him while he sat, happily recounting.

"Ey', Re?"

He looked up at her, digging out a pack of smokes.

Elena stuck her tongue out at him.

Reno blinked once, and then lunged over the table at Elena. She squeaked, dodging him twice before running around the table to escape him. Rude and Reeve sat smoking, moving their feet or arms every once and a while the other two ran around them and breakneck speeds. Another dodge and she had Cid's chair in between the two of them, once again her tongue stuck out. "Nayyyyy."

Proving to be the faster of the two, Reno managed to tackle her to the ground, and proceeded to tickle her.

"Ahh! Reno! You –ha ha ha- oh, my… tickling is- oh you come here! Oh-" Elena protested, trying to pinch him in the side. "I'm… oh I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Cid was staring wide eyed at the sight of two assassins in the midst of a tickle-fight. Reeve laughed himself before snuffing out his cigarette. Rude did the same and then strode over to Reno and Elena. Gripping them both by the collar, he pulled them apart and held them up so they had to stand on tip toe.

Elena and Reno shared a look, nodded, and then began to tickle Rude under the arms. The big man fell, laughing loudly and trying to push Reno and Elena off of him without honestly hurting them. There was a massive flurry of movement then, some blows that could have almost been in seriousness. Then, a shove nearly tossed Elena in the air and Rude rolled to his knees with both of the other Turks in head-locks.

Reeve cleared his throat, and they looked up at him with nearly believable innocence. "Are the three of you quite done being five?"

"Do we gotta?" Elena asked.

Reno snickered.

"Come on, Reno, go get in the shower." Reeve motioned to another door as he spoke, indicating what had to be the bathroom. "Someone is going to need to go get medical supplies to patch your mouth up." At Reno's look of horror, Reeve's eyes narrowed. "I mean it; you don't want an infection do you?"

Reno scowled, but made his way into the back room without further protest.

Reeve took a deep breath, as if to steady himself then he ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. Rude, Elena, I want a perimeter check."

Tickle-fight forgotten, both Rude and Elena nodded in a business-like manner and walked to a third door. They rummaged around for a while and familiar clicking told the tale of clips sliding into place and guns adjusting. Not a word or even a smile passed by either of them, and then, the two slid out the first door without a sound.

Once again, Cid Highwind was left alone with Emmerson Reeve. Four cigarettes had gone before finally, Reeve was the first one to speak. "Cid, are you alright?" Had he been anyone else, there would have been no doubt that the question was genuine.

"The fucking hell do ya think!" he began, his tone loud, then as if he thought about it, he shut his mouth. "You know what? I don't give a damn. After this is all over, you're gone." His voice was quieter, more intense. Cid was certainly not up for games with his own personal Turk pal. Not at all.

"No one asked you to stay." Reeve snapped and then there was silence again. Reeve sounded haggard when he spoke next. "Fuck, you know, it was a job. A JOB, Cid. You act like I set out with the soul purpose of making you hate me and everything that wears a blue suit." He dug out a pack of cigarettes and exhaled loudly out of his nose.

"You're the only reminder left... did ya ever damn well think of that? Maybe that bitch too, but she's out of the picture. Not to fucking profane the dead and all that shit," more of that low whisperish tone. He wasn't fighting, or else he would have been louder, more gusto. It was almost like he was slowly losing a piece of his sanity... and he still didn't have a face for his enemy. But Reeve's face... it would serve.

"She had a name, Cid." Reeve started out like he was simply tired, but then his voice raised in pitch, lased with a rather guilty undertone. "What do you want from me, Cid? Huh? What exactly is it that you need instead of twisting the damn, "I'm better than you" blade around to make yourself feel better?" Rising out of his chair, Reeve started pacing. "And before you tell me to shoot myself in the head, can it. I've lived through too much to bow out now."

"Just like those damn kids you've got hanging around here. Orders, fucking orders. 'I was damn well forced to do it, Cid' and 'I had no free fucking will' Well, I've damn some pretty heinous shit in my life, but fuck, I at least owned up to it," he pointed a finger for emphasis, "You know what I want? Some damn responsibility. The survivors are the ones that have to bear the burden. It's a bitch, but it's gods fucking a summon real." No threats of violence. Cid almost looked old, something his vitality usually covered up.

Reeve laughed. Actually laughed, maybe he was loosing touch, maybe…

"Cid, who the hell said I wasn't guilty? Not once in my god damn life have I thought I was innocent. Greedy, too eager to save my own ass sometimes? Yeah, I'll admit to those. I'll admit to towering acts of cowardness and self centeredness too. But I can't CHANGE any of it." He let out another short chuckle. "Innocent."

Cid blinked. And then blinked again, before smirking. "Well fuck, didn't realize ya liked me so damn much. I'm not into that shit, yanno. Creepy assfucker." He thought on what he said a minute before opening his mouth again. "Wait, you're probably the other end of that. Assfucked. Sure sounds like ya."

"You got the same speech I did: Welcome to ShinRa, now bend over." This, however Reeve said in full seriousness. "And I'm not doing that shit again. I, personally blame you hero fucks for this sudden urge to tell powerful people to screw off."

"It's a free bird lifestyle," Cid demonstrated with both hands, "Join the fucking club. You either take it, or you finally find out what the ass feels like from the other end. But you're too damn old to be worth that, aren't ya?" He chuckled darkly. Reeve wondered how much Cid talked about himself with other people's names.

"Yeah, too old for this is absolutely right."

This time the silence was comfortable, though both men seemed less sane than they had been a few night prior. The shower door opened and Reno slinked out, bright eyes narrowed in Cid's direction before they settled on Reeve.

Reeve kicked out a chair and Reno took the invitation, sitting down and slumping on the table. His still damp hair dripped onto the table.

"Re?" Reeve held a cigarette up in front of the young man's face.

Reno shook his head and jerked a thumb back to the room he'd come from before yawning. It wasn't a pretty sight, even though he'd at least rinsed his mouth out. Reeve nodded.

"I'll go with Rude to get supplies, Cid and Elle will be fine if you take a nap."

Reno thought for a moment and sighed. His eyebrow twitched again, telling of things he wished he could say.

"I'll take care of things, promise."

Reno nodded then, standing and stretching before returning to the room.

There wasn't three minutes to spare before Rude and Elena slid back inside. "Everything's clear." Elena stated flatly. "I'd like to say we got lucky, Hojo wasn't known for his love of nature. Still, we shouldn't stay around too long."

While she spoke Rude stood behind her, nodding when she was finished.

"Right. Cid, you and Elle stay here. Elena, brief him on what you guys know, if you can. I'll talk to Rude while we head to the store. "

Reeve stood and Elena took his chair. She looked at Cid a few moments before turning back to Reeve and Rude. "Be careful, guys."

"We're Turks." Reeve responded as though it meant they'd be fine. Rude gave a half smile and the two shut the door behind them.

Once again, Elena peered at Cid. "Ah, Highwind? Ya alright?" Her mouth quirked up in thought. "Maybe you want something?" This was asked as though Elena were trying to figure him out, at the very least. She pointed to yet another room. "I could make you a cup of tea; we just have loose leaves though…"


End file.
